“Ode to my Poetry Class”
Grace Hunter

Dear Poetry Class

I didn’t want to write rhymes and poems
I wanted to write fiction of every kind
I thought about dropping the class and going home
This was going to be a waste of time

Dear Poetry class

I decided to stay just for the grade
I hoped my eyes wouldn’t roll up into my head
I would keep my mouth shut and not throw shade
I hoped I wouldn’t snore like I was home in bed

Dear Poetry Class

I woke up out of my dreamy half life
My eyes opened to an ocean of cobwebs
Thick and gauzy, but there was no spider in sight
The spider was me

Dear poetry class

I started to swim upward
Ripping and tearing my way to what was real
Remnants clung and fell away as I made my ascent
Drawn to words that became a symphony
A musical, lyrical, and raw
A kaleidoscope of humanity
Rich in a rainbow of colors
Especially red
Red benches seated in passion and contemplation
Red doors swing open ripping away cobwebs
Entering the chambers of my heart yet to be explored

Dear poetry class

I heard an orchestra riding on the waves
Of every human emotion
I heard your songs of truth
Unfiltered, uncensored
Pushing through mild discomfort
And at times blinding, trembling fear
Armed only with unabashed courage
And the fortitude of poetic gladiators

Dear poetry class

I heard your songs of experience
Of broken hearts shattered
Of open wounds being licked raw
Of hearts mending with the strength of personal will
Of time colliding and collapsing in on itself
Past, present and future
Becomes a big bang of a moment
Of stiffened fingers from a winter’s frost
Of the soft moist innards of cacti representing the heart
And its outer thorns of protection
Of the softness of an infant’s skin
So many pictures painted with lyrical words
Challenging and pursuing my imagination without chase

Dear poetry class

I am fully awake and aware
My surfaces hold an invisible new depth
The thought pool of my mind has more chop

Dear poetry class

My years are becoming a bit more golden

Dear poetry class

Thank you